 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
Come to myself, meseemed a quarry it was.
Wherein, with these numbed joints and sapless flanks;
And pupils' dull yet ánd uncertain seeing;
O'er ledges and sharp shelves, I upward groped,
Of cliffs rock-face.
Wherein, with these numbed joints and sapless flanks;
And pupils' dull yet ánd uncertain seeing;
O'er ledges and sharp shelves, I upward groped,
Of cliffs rock-face.
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |